


For Fear Your Grace Should Fall

by Pizza_Of_My_Eye



Category: Iron Fist (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/M, I have a dark twisted mind, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Underage, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Step-Sibling Incest, Step-siblings, Taboo, Underage Drinking, but pushing it, what if the meachums had a step sister?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizza_Of_My_Eye/pseuds/Pizza_Of_My_Eye
Summary: Ward hasn't seen her for years, but now his step-sister is back in New York at the worst possible time, bringing old regrets and new temptations with her.(An AU where Harold remarries after the mother of his children dies and gains a step-daughter)





	For Fear Your Grace Should Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This starts around the time Danny breaks out of the psychiatric hospital/sues the Meachums. 
> 
> Also, please read the tags. If any sort of step-sibling sexual content or instances of drug/alcohol abuse skeeves you out- this is probably a story for you to avoid. I don't want anybody to have a bad time.

Ward wasn’t quite sure how he got here, sitting across from his estranged step-sister in a crowded, pretentious Manhattan restaurant, the awkward tension stemming from years of nothing but superficial birthday texts and last minute christmas cards settling around them as heavy as the hot smell of cooked steak and olive-oil that filled the room. They weren’t close, never had been. Mostly like likely never would be, so the dinner felt perfunctory.

Half-assed. A _mistake_.

Yet they both had somehow decided to roll with it, like a game of boring chicken. The first one to flinch, to fake a yawn or beg off with a lame excuse was the loser. And they were a similar brand of stubborn that would sit through hours of this _torture_ just to claim themselves victorious.

He should have insisted they reschedule for a time when Joy wasn’t “busy” (he actually suspected his birth sister was flaking on purpose, as Joy wasn’t the type to agree to a date on a weeknight, but lacked the proof to call her out on it). Being alone with her again, after all the other shit that he had piling on top of him was proving to be too much. His knuckles were turning white around the fork he had clenched in his hand.

Neither had really spoken more than a few terse words.

Or eaten much of anything either for that matter. Ward had taken only small, obligatory bites of his food before he started to simply push it around the plate, mostly because if his hands didn’t have something, _anything_ to do he was sure he’d lose his fucking mind and have a nervous breakdown in public, in a trendy restaurant ( _and wouldn’t the Board just_ love _that)._ She had already abandoned all pretense and pushed her plate completely aside after plucking one cherry tomato from her salad with sharp, black-polished nails and popping it into her mouth, choosing instead to focus on her second martini.

Another unfortunate way in which they were similar; They both prefered to drink their meals.

Ward grimaced, his traitorous brain taking that stray thought and running with it, drudging up old memories of warm nights, cold vodka, and shameful temptations. He hoped the obnoxiously dim lighting at their table was enough to hide the flush that overcame him. Regret, and something darker that terrified him, made his face hot and his back start to sweat.

That was the problem with repression. You could ignore the past, drink yourself off your ass, eat a rainbow of pills, drag your body through hell just to forget - only to have the past come up like a pit viper and strike you on the ass the moment you think you got it beat.

It had happened when Danny stumbled into his office, back from the dead, but this was infinitely worse. Her venom was particularly potent.

He had taken advantage of her. Plain and simple. He was supposed to take care of her, keep her safe, be the responsible adult. But instead he’d plied her with alcohol and preyed on her like one of those creeps Lifetime made-for-tv movies were based off of. As soon as Joy was off to college… He - he took something from her that wasn’t meant for him, betrayed her trust. Lied to her. Pawed at her. Called her _sister_ all the while grooming her to be a _lover._

And she was sitting across from him, looking a little older but still very much the same, sharing drinks and pretending to eat like none of that had happened. Like they were just two _real_ siblings. It baffled him. Made the guilt twist and roil in his stomach.

He should leave, he thought. He needed to stand up and walk out of this place and get as far away from her (and what he did) as humanly possible. Maybe throw a few scathing remarks over his shoulder to keep her from following. It was for the best.

But he couldn’t.

Couldn’t hurt her again. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t _breathe._  

A soft sigh startled him out of his encroaching panic attack. He looked up from his lap ( _when had he started to shred his napkin into tiny slivers?)_ and risked a glance across the table _._ His step-sister put down her now empty glass and met his gaze, smirking a little in a way that made him feel car-sick.

“‘Nother round?” she asked, taking the glass cocktail stirrer and sliding the olive off with her teeth.

Ward coughed and drained his own drink, equally to stall for time and to numb the awful emotions conjured up by the action and the goddamn memories and her reappearance out of the fucking blue. He nodded and she twisted in her seat to flag down their waiter.

“You know, you still haven't mentioned why you’re in town, Grace.”

Because what the hell was she even doing?

She comes back to the city for the first time in five years, doesn't call or text or warn anyone, and just blows into Rand like a sudden summer storm in a slinky red sundress, upsetting what had  miraculously managed to be a tolerable, scandal-free day, and for what? He had no idea what she was playing at.

He had been on a conference call when her voice seeped through the thin door that connected his office to Joy’s, and his blood chilled like someone had just walked over his grave. The fumble and clumsy sign off to the call probably cost him a bit of his unflappable reputation, but she had just sauntered into his office and it was like being punched in the gut.

The only upside to her sudden arrival and annoyingly cryptic behaviour was that maybe, _just maybe_ Harold didn’t know about Grace being in New York yet. And Ward desperately needed to keep it that way.

“Hmm? I’ll get to it,” she dismissed Ward with a casual wave of her hand and ordered another gin martini from the waiter that had appeared beside her. “And he’ll have another Macallan, neat. Thank you.”

“You ordering drinks for me now?” Ward grumbled as their waiter left for the bar, the unintentional irony of the question hitting him with another wave of nausea.

She shrugged, jarring one of the straps from her dress down her shoulder and revealing a thin tan-line trailing from the back of her neck, past her collarbone and disappearing down into the neckline of the dress. Ward knew he was staring, studying this new expanse of her skin far more intently than could even remotely be considered innocent, but he couldn’t _fucking help it._ Physical attraction didn’t magically disappear just because you felt like an asshole about it.

“You do seem distracted tonight.” Her green eyes followed his gaze towards her newly exposed skin, then flicked back to meet his, the knowing little smirk back on her lips. She seemed to purposefully make a show of slowly sliding the askew strap back into place, not once breaking eye contact.

Ward bit back a groan and rolled his eyes.

Was she toying with him? Teasing him on purpose as some form of payback for what he did to her?

“Can you blame me? What are you even doing here?” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, didn’t need the unwanted attention from the other diners, but was glad to see that smug smirk drop from her face.

“I live here now, _brother,”_ she replied, spitting the words at him like an accusation. “I got the conservation fellowship I applied for at the Met. Which you would know if you read any of the emails I sent you about it.”

Dread, heavy and suffocating, hit him like tidal wave. _Emails_ . Of all the ways there were to contact him, she just had to send a _goddamn email_. All doubt that Harold knew about Grace’s return to the city evaporated. Now he had to add her safety to his already overflowing plate which was starting to crack and splinter under the weight of keeping Joy in the dark, dealing with an unpredictable Danny Rand, running an international multi-billion dollar business, and being the middleman ( _henchman_ ) to his nightmare of a father and a clandestine crime syndicate. He had to fight the urge to tear his hair out.

After a deep breath he managed to ask, “You’re living  _here?"_

“Don't be _too_ happy for me there Ward, you might accidently smile for once. Joy at least faked some excitement at the news.”

“No, that's not - I'm happy for you. Congratulations.” They both paused, subtly glaring at each other while the waiter returned with their drinks. Ward immediately took his glass and knocked back half of it, relishing the smooth burn of the scotch. It helped control swirling mass of anxiety and stress building in his gut. " I'm just … surprised, I guess."

“Why do I get the feeling that there’s something you’re not telling me?” Grace said, taking a pointed sip of her fresh martini. “I got the same vibe from Joy back at the office. What the hell is going on? The FTC investigating Rand or something?”

And then it came to him. An out, an excuse. An easy explanation for his dodgy behavior, but one that would at least shock his step-sister into silence, and get her focus off of him. Not like she wouldn’t find out eventually, now that Hogarth was involved...

“Danny Rand is alive.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins my first fanfic since the early 2000s. 
> 
> I'm a little rusty, but hopefully this is passable. Any sort of feedback, comments or constructive criticism is very much welcomed. Or just leave a kudos so I know if there's some interest to read more. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


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